Paintings

Long ago, my sister Lorinda was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was her guy and we did medicine together. Sometimes, we went far afield. As the end drew near, we settled in with the hometown hospital. Whatever the procedure, as Lorinda was trundled down the hall on a gurney, I walked beside. Lorinda, looking up, found the ceiling to be frightfully dull. She said, “I wish someone would paint pictures on the ceiling.” The plea was heard. Fifth grade classes did the painting, hospital maintenance installed the images overhead. They were little noticed, except by those lying on a gurney. 

Photo by Zakir Rushanly